Only in Dreams
by glaurificus
Summary: A look linside the subconsciouses of everybodys favourite agents. WARNING! This was written after watching the Buffy ep "Restless" so it will be weird...
1. Blindness

Title: Only in Dreams

Written by: Glaurificus

Rating: PG

Category: General, angst

Disclaimer: I don't own The Tea Party or Alias, so you can't just call those lawyers off now, thank you very much.

Author's Note: Just a little peak inside the subconscious of everybody's favourite spies.

Some will be angsty; some will funny, but hopefully, all will be enjoyable! As always, read and review.

Archivage: Just gimme a shout. Gimme gimme gimme!

"With nothing to do you'd waste away,

Obscured in exile

They've witnessed the times you've gone astray.

Who's fault? Now you're thinking."

_Heaven Coming Down - The Tea Party_

The sun was bright and blissful as it shone down on a group of happy players. Sydney, Irina, Jack, and Vaughn were all enjoying a leisurely game of tennis on a large court. Will and Francie were off to the side, making lemonade. Everyone and everything was perfectly content.

            "You really shouldn't be afraid, dear", Irina said, turning briefly to her daughter. "Aggression is a natural tendency, and nothing to be ashamed of." 

            "I know." replied Sydney. Her keen eyes surveyed the ball as it connected with her father's racket and came soundlessly towards hers. "I just don't have the time to deal with it." With a slight ping, the ball went back to the men's side of the court.

            "The big hand is on the four, and the little hand is on the seven" Will called out suddenly. "What time is that?"

            "Time to get cracking on that lemonade." Vaughn snapped as he returned Sydney's shot. "We're all working hard and we need a treat, so make yourself useful, desk agent." Slightly hurt, but knowing better than to talk back, Will went back to helping Francie with the lemonade.

            "Now, now boys" Jack chided gently. "I don't want to hear any fighting. This is all for Sydney's benefit, and we mustn't ruin it for her." The ball scaled to net to meet Irina.

            "What is?" Sydney asked as she watched her mother's graceful form arch into a commanding backhand. However, while she was questioning the way of things, she missed Vaughn's volley.

            "Never you mind sweetheart," Irina said gently as she kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Just get the ball back and we can keep going with this. We'll all be okay."

            Sydney turned to where the ball had stopped in a thick tangle of bushes. She could see its vague outline but the bushes were thorny and she knew that is she went in she would most certainly get hurt. "No, I can't." Sydney said, looking pleadingly to her mother. In the background, Vaughn and Will were fist fighting about who was going to get the first glass. Vaughn had already taken the first sip, but Will still thought he had a claim because he had made the drink.

            Looking back to her mother, Sydney saw Jack coming up behind Irina, and put his arm around her waist. "Do what your mother tells you, Sydney," he said, "Or the boys will splash our drinks all over the place with their silly fighting."

            Sydney smiled "Alright, I'll be quick." With a glance back, she saw Irina step between the boys and hand the pitcher of lemonade to a triumphant Vaughn while Jack took Will aside and gave him a lecture on the value of knowing when to make your move.

            Sydney moved closer to the woods. All her instincts told her not to go, but if her parents said it would be all right, then why wouldn't it be? Her steps were cautious at first, but they grew bolder as she approached the bramble. It seemed to clear, revealing the lobby of the Ops Centre. 

            Where people would normally work and mill about, there was no one and silence dominated the scene. "I'll never find it here." Sydney said softly to herself. 

"I heard this place has everything." came a voice from behind her. Dixon walked slowly up to her, his expression calm and serene. "Why wouldn't this place have your ball?"

            Sydney was puzzled. She had expected him to be mad at her but here he was, talking to her like old times. But he was missing his ball, and guilt raged about in her head. "I'm sorry they don't have yours. I know Diane would've liked it back." She hung her head and, felt tears stream down her cheeks. "I didn't mean to use you!" she sobbed.

He took her face in his hands. "It's okay, partner," he said soothingly. "I guess I'll have to find another ball." Sydney smiled at him. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked gently. "Oh, I'm fine, Bluebird." he answered. "I'm more worried about you. Things have changed right under you, and you can't even see it."

Confused, Sydney looked down at her feet. They were the same, clad (as always) in smart, sensible black pumps. She looked back up to Dixon. "I don't understand," she said, eyes questioning. 

He held out his hand and tenderly stroked the side of her face. "It's okay, Syd. You just have to know what to see." And with that, Dixon faded away.

Sydney turned away from where Dixon had been standing, and started down the hallway to her mother's cell. She wasn't surprised to find the guard station empty, so she decided to try to fit in between the gates. Walking over to the bars, Sydney was surprised that she fit through them quite easily. "Someone should fix that." she though to herself. "I know my mother would never try to escape, but if Kendall finds out, he's going to be mad."

She continued down the hall to its end and her mother's glass cage. However, Irina was not the one in it. 

Much to her delighted surprise, Sloane was seated on her mother's metal cot. He seemed to be staring at something on the wall very intently, and Sydney took a more than a hint of pleasure at breaking his concentration. 

"You look good behind glass," she said mockingly. However, Sloane just stared straight ahead at his wall. Frustrated, Sydney tried again. "Does Emily know what you've done?" she said, hoping for him to even blink. Nothing. Finally, Sydney beat her fists on the glass. "Can you even see me, old man?" she shouted, wondering briefly if the cell had been soundproofed since her mother's departure. After a long pause and a deeply drawn breath, Sloane turned his head towards her and sneered. "Do you really think you can keep me in here?" he asked mockingly. "I know you, Agent Sydney Bristow. You'll have to let me out at some point; you need me." 

"For what?" Sydney blasted. "To send me on missions, to put me in danger, to repulse me?" she continued. "For seven years, I lived in your vile stench of a presence, pretended to look lovingly at you, even made you think I loved you, but it was all a plot, you sick sonofabitch! Do you hear me? I'm the one with the power here! You are nothing but an impotent, doddering old man!" she screamed. Taking several quick, shallow breaths, she calmed herself. "You are nothing to me." she finished coldly and began to walk away. 

However, Sloane wasn't done. "You still don't know, do you?" he questioned. Sydney turned back, ready to contradict anything he said. His mouth turned up at the corners in a parody of a smile. "Of course not. I'm not the blind one here, Agent Bristow." he sneered. "You're the one who can't even tell when the wind changes direction, and everyone changes sides. Poor girl. You're the only one who can't see what's so plainly in front of her face."  He turned back to staring at his wall, leaving Sydney alone with her confusion. "What are you talking about?" she asked impatiently, but Sloane refused to look her way. He replied only: "You have to know what to see." Then Sloane and the cellblock faded.

Sydney awoke with a start, feeling more than a little unsettled.


	2. Happiness

Will

"Sleep

I sleep everyday

Wipe the cobwebs away

I need to be loved

Christ

I'm out of my mind

I need to be loved

I need to be loved"

Starsailor, "Good Souls"

They moved together in seamless rhythm, their bodies fitting perfectly together. His thrusts were strong and fast, and he felt more and more at one with her as they moved. Moaning, panting, and thrusting became blurred together as he neared his finish."Oh God!" he cried out, inching closer to the peak. "Ohmigod! Oh Fran! I love you so much!" Beneath him, he heard her stifled moans. She gave no direct response, choosing instead to grind her hips closer to his as she neared her climax. They came together, a duet of ecstatic cries and religious pronouncements. He rolled off her and laid back, covered with a thick layer of sweat, luxuriating in the moment. 

            It seemed like a blissful eternity, but Will finally managed to gather the strength back to his limbs. He propped himself on his left arm and looked down at Francie, who had already turned over and fallen asleep. 'Guess it tired her out.' he thought, feeling a surge of testosterone-fueled pride.   

He remained there for a moment, content to look down at her and remember what they had just shared. Finally, fatigue overcame him and he sank into the thick pillows, quickly falling asleep.

He was in Taipei again. He tried to move his arms but they were secured with handcuffs to the chair. The taste of blood made him nauseous and he could not even move his jaw to swallow. Then, Suit and Glasses came in. "Tell me, Mr. Tippen" he intoned breathily. "Who told you about the Circumference?" Will sat in the chair, stoically holding on to his control. "I told you already," he said, as even as he could. "I don't know a damn thing."

            Suit and Glasses seemed unphased by this. "Very well." he said. "Bring in the girl." Two guards appeared, dragging a limp figure who, Will could tell, was barely alive. Suit and Glasses walked over to her and lifted her head. Will closed his eyes. "No no no no no no." he half-chanted to himself, refusing to see who was before him."Come now, Mr. Tippen. You've been so brave until now." Suit and Glasses said mockingly. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little bloodied corpse."

            Will forced himself to look down at the figure. She was dressed all in black and had ridiculously red hair. "Sydney?" he whispered, terrified of being right. However, as the figure slowly became aware of her surroundings, she also seemed to recover her strength. Her head snapped up and with a vicious scream, she systematically beat down the guards. Then it was just her and Suit and Glasses, who was on his knees and crying like baby. "Please, spare me!" he snivelled. 

            Sydney looked down at him, her chin raised nobly. "I shall, but just this once." she said. "Now, Will and I are going to leave and you will never torture another living being again." she ordered. "Yes, oh yes! Oh thank you, most merciful one!" he cried, hastily climbing to his feet. "Here are the keys to his handcuffs. I don't know who put them there. I told my lackeys to make him comfortable but you know how lackeys are! Always disobeying orders!" He rambled on as he thrust the tiny keys into her hands. "Now, go." she said haughtily. "And never let me see your ugly face again." Suit and Glasses started to ramble again, but thought the better of it when he saw the look in Sydney's eyes. "Going! Going, going, going...." his voice trailed off as he sped down the hallway. 

            Finally, Sydney turned to him. Her eyes were full of concern as she uncuffled him. "You're going to be okay Will," she said soothingly. She helped him up and supported him down the hallway. "You'll never be in any danger again...." Sydney's voice faded and Will suddenly found himself in a very familiar place...

He was back at his old desk, the one at the newspaper. Everyone was rushing about, getting his or her stories ready. Will, however, sat still at his desk, reviewing the images from the satellite. 

            Francie pulled up a chair beside him. "Did you have any trouble accessing the satellite?" she asked. "Was anyone suspicious?" 

            Will turned to her, confused. "No." he said, "I use them in my reports. No one was suspicious." She smiled at him. "So what's the occasion, for coming to see me at work?" he asked. Through all the years that they had known each other, neither Sydney nor Will nor Francie had ever visited each other's workplaces. It was new, maybe something she wanted to do now that they were a couple, but Will wasn't about to question her. 

            "What are you looking at?" she said, craning her neck to look at his computer. "Oh, nothing." he said, running his hand up her leg. She looked down and scowled, and he removed his hand. 'Guess she doesn't want to play out that whole sex in the office thing' he thought, feeling stung at her rejection. 

            "Hey, wanna see something pretty cool?" he asked, trying to recover. "Sure." she said. Will pointed to the bottom right hand corner. "See these markings, X8471, GY983? They're the orbital location of the satellite and its operational controls." 

            Francie smiled. "Really?" she said. 

"Yeah." he replied. "Just one of the perks to working for the CIA." He had come to feel quite proud of his job and of himself. 

            Francie smiled at him. "Well, I guess this means we'll have to do something special tonight." she said, her thin smile creasing the corners of her eyes in that adorable way Will loved. He leaned in, and kissed her passionately on the lips. She returned with equal ardour, and they soon found themselves rolling around the floor of Will's cubicle, a mad flurry of hands, mouths, and flying clothes. "3...2...1." Francie groaned as she came. Will let out a hard shudder and fell on top of her, completely satisfied. 

"God," Will panted. "That was the best sex of my life." He leaned over to kiss her on the forehead, but instead found himself wide awake. He looked down at Francie, sleeping peacefully beside him and smiled. 'I really do have a great life' he thought as he kissed her cheek. Francie murmured and turned over. "Y asleesh no sticho pio peeni" ** she said sleepily. Will frowned. 'Since when does Francie speak Russian?' he wondered to himself. He sighed. 'I was probably wrong. I mean, people say all sorts of nonsense when they're asleep.' He lay down on his side and nestled himself against Francie's back, thankful that they were together.  

** I translated this from "Passage pt 2". Cuvee is talking to Irina in his office and at one point, he mentions the fact that he thought she'd been killed. I don't speak Russian or anything; I just have a good ear and way too much time on my hands! :)


	3. Ruined

A/N: We know so little about Irina, and I didn't want to make this into a cheesy clip show-type dream. Sorry to all you Sarkneys out there, but the sibling angle just worked too well for this. I figure that even if they aren't related, Irina must think of them both as her children, biological or not. However, if it sucks, feel free to flame me; it's the only way I'll learn...

"I wasn't me when we met

You haven't lost my respect

I'm here to serve and protect

What shade of insanity

Keeps leading you back to me."

Robbie Williams - "Monsoon"

The three boarded the plane in silence, each off in his or her own world. Sloane's thoughts, of course, centred around how exactly he was going to make Sydney and Jack pay for their betrayal that cost Emily her life. Sark's mind was more rational, furiously calculating the next step the plan should go in order to keep the advantage to himself. Irina's mind, however, was absolutely still. Whether it was the anesthetic Sark had given her when he took the bullet out of her shoulder or the numbness that naturally accompanied grief, she didn't know. All that mattered was that for the first time since she had formed her syndicate, her mind had stopped. No thoughts, no planning, just a deep need for sleep.

            She sank gratefully into one of the couches on the plane and lay down. The leather was hard and did not offer any promises of being good for her spine, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that she was going to get some much-needed rest. She closed her eyes and was dimly aware of Sark taking a seat in another corner of the plane's small cabin. The rhythmic clicking of the laptop keys was the only sound that accompanied Irina as she slipped into unconsciousness.

***************************************

            The sunlight streamed peacefully down on the Bristows as they enjoyed lunch in the grove. 

"We should come here more often." Irina remarked, taking a bite of a ham and cheese sandwich. "Mmmm. Sydney, this is wonderful. Where did you learn to be such a good cook?" 

Sydney beamed at her mother. "I would hardly consider a sandwich cooking." she replied, swatting Sark's invading fork away from her chocolate cake. "But nonetheless, you're the one who taught me." Sark wouldn't give up, so Sydney knocked him hard across the head. 

Jack laughed. "Now children, play nicely." he admonished. "There'll be no more fighting in this family." He leaned over and kissed Irina on the cheek. "No, there's been enough of that already."  

            Sydney made a face. "Come on, Dad." she said. "Do you have to do that while I'm eating?" 

Jack ignored her request, opting instead to kiss his wife passionately on the lips. "Hey," Irina said huskily, "Last time you did that I ended up with a tracker in my chest." 

Jack chuckled softly. "You're the one who didn't notice." he teased, nuzzling her neck. Irina closed her eyes, drinking in the happiness she felt surrounded by her family. 

            Sark piped up next. "Come now, Irina," he said, ripping off a piece of his sandwich and throwing it at the two elder Bristows. "I'm going to be scarred for life if you two keep carrying on like the twentysomethings you aren't."

"Oh that is it, boy!" Irina said, breaking off from Jack's embrace. "I'm going to put you over my knee and give you a damn good thrashing!" Sark leapt up and began running around the picnic spot as Irina chased him and Jack and Sydney fell down laughing. Irina caught him and, without breaking a sweat, picked him up, and carried him over her shoulder back to the checkered picnic blanket. 

"Here!" she cried, setting Sark down across her legs. "Everybody gets a turn!" Jack and Sydney continued their hysterics as they each gave Sark a sound THWACK! to the bottom. 

            Finally, the three let up their assault and Sark hastily covered his arse as he sat back down. "Alright," he said, trying to contain his own laughter. "Next time, Sydney gets it." 

            "Oh, I don't think so, brother dear." Sydney replied. "First off, you'd have to catch me!" she cried as she took off running. Sark chased after her, but Sydney ducked into the dense forest. Without hesitation, Sark ran after her, yelling about how she would be in so much trouble when he found her. 

            Irina sat back in Jack's lap. "Do you think they'll be safe?" 

            "No, they won't be." came a raspy voice. Suddenly, Arvin was standing in front of the picnic area. Irina jumped up, body tense and at the ready to defend her family. "Leave this place." she snarled. "Jack, get everything together and find Sydney and Andrew." she called over her shoulder.

            "Oh, I don't think so." came a familiar voice. Irina whipped around to find Jack gone, replaced by her former supervisor and sometimes lover, Gerard Cuvee. "What? Not happy to see old friends?" he said, his tone dangerously light. He and Sloane simultaneously stepped forward. Irina felt panic ripple through her body. 'Okay, as long as they're both unarmed, I should be able to take them' she thought to herself as she clenched her fists and bent slightly at the knees. 

            "Oooh! I know you're a feisty one, lover" crooned Cuvee. "But I guess that trait did not make it to the second generation." 

            "What are you talking about?" queried Irina, hoping that none of the terror she felt was showing in her voice. 

"Tsk tsk." chided Sloane. "Time to show you how little your precious training paid off." 

            Suddenly, Sark came out of the woods, carrying a limp body. His face was a mask of hatred and his steely gaze was fixed directly on Irina. 

            "No." she whispered as he drew closer, but she already knew whom Sark was carrying. Finally, he reached Irina's feet and let the body roll out of his arms and land with a dull thud on the ground. "You swore you were going to protect us." Sark growled. 

            Irina collapsed beside Sydney's wilted form. With a tender hand, she smoothed away an errant strand that had fallen across her daughter's beautiful face. Her skin was pale and slightly blue but her expression, despite the many tiny cuts, was peaceful. Irina felt a single tear escape down her cheek and land on Sydney's, a grotesque parody of shared pain. 

            Finally, Irina summoned the courage to look up at the men surrounding her. Sark, with his fiery hatred; Cuvee, with his look of smug satisfaction; and Sloane, with his coolly satisfied look of revenge fulfilled. 

"Why?" she choked out. Cuvee sneered. "Did you really think that you could get away with all you've done? Did you think there wouldn't be a price?" he asked. "Surely you knew this day would come" interjected Sark. "You could have prevented all this, of course." 

"She was so small when she was born, wasn't she, Irina?" finished Sloane. Tears were now freely streaming down Irina's cheeks. "I'm sorry!" she cried, burying her head in Sydney's still chest. "I'm so sorry!" 

Suddenly, Jack yanked her up by the crook of her arm. Sark, Sloane, and Cuvee were gone and it was just the two of them standing over Sydney's grave. "Don't be sorry," he ground out, his voice dripping with venom. "Be dead." Jack raised his handgun and fired.

*******************************

            Irina awoke with a start. Willing her tired eyes to focus, she quickly scanned her surroundings and was relieved to find herself back on the plane. 

            She got up slowly, and made her way over to where Sark was sitting. At first, the limp angle of his head stirred a strong panic in Irina but it disappeared as she saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. 'Sleeping on the job.' she mused tenderly. She came up along side the chair and crouched down. A tiny rivulet of drool had formed at the corner of his mouth and Irina wiped it away affectionately with her index finger. She chuckled low, but the sound was enough to wake Sark. "What?" he asked groggily. Irina smiled. "Nothing, dear." she said quietly. She patted his shoulder as she rose and return to her seat. 

"It's been awhile since I've seen you smile like that." he called over his shoulder. "You should do it more often."  

            "I will," she murmured to herself. "Just as soon as I get everything in order."  


End file.
